Grateful
by Iamafanoftoomanythingstoname
Summary: Three years after the quest ended, and Frodo didn't seem to be feeling any better. In fact, it looked to Sam like he was doing worse. What makes the former Ringbearer's life after the quest bearable? A mix of bookverse & movieverse.


**A/N: I used part of a quote from Tolkien's writing in **_**The Return of the King; "**_**there was not a hobbit in the Shire that was looked after with such care**_"_ **and put an asterisk after it. I do not own **_**The Lord of the Rings. **_**Also, I did my best with the way Elanor talks; sorry if she sounds too grown up for her age (3).**

A few years had passed since the War on the Ring, and late one evening, Samwise Gamgee settled himself in a comfy chair in Bag End, where he and his family now resided with Frodo.

'_What more could a hobbit want?' _Sam thought contentedly as he watched his little daughter Elanor playing around. He felt all his wishes had come true; he and his master had returned alive from the journey, Rosie married him, and now not only did he have a daughter, but there was another baby on the way. He held these blessings dear to his heart all the more as he thought of how close he and Frodo had come to dying a fiery death after the Ring had been destroyed.

"Da, play with me!" Elanor exclaimed, bouncing up and down. Sam chuckled as he stood up.

"All right—" he stopped and turned around when he heard Rosie call his name. "Hold on, Ellie. I'd better see what your mother wants."

Elanor continued playing by herself, skipping around until she reached the door of Frodo's study. She hadn't seen him for hours as he hadn't come out very much that day, even to eat something, claiming that he wasn't feeling well enough. This puzzled Elanor; how could any hobbit get by with so little food?

Sam went looking for his daughter when he didn't find her where he left her. He was a bit surprised when he saw her just standing there, staring his master's door. He stopped her when it looked like she was about to open it.

"Hey, now, Elanorelle, best not disturb him." She looked at her dad questioningly.

"Da, what's Uncle Frodo doin' in there all the time?"

"He's very busy writin' a book," Sam answered as he picked her up.

"How come?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll tell it to ya sometime. Right now I think it's about time for you to be getting' to bed." Elanor pouted. "Don't give me that look; I've let ya stay up later than usual as it is." Sam then handed her to his wife and they both tucked her into bed.

"Mommy? You going have another baby?" Elanor asked. "That's what Da said."

Rosie laughed. "What, don't you believe him? Yes, sweetheart, you will have a brother or sister soon." Elanor looked like she was unsure about how happy she was about this news.

"Can it be a sister?" she asked, and Sam gave her an amused smile.

"I don't know; we don't get to pick, El. Don't worry. Either way, you'll have someone new to play with."

The little girl nodded hesitantly, and both Sam and Rosie kissed her goodnight. When they left the room, Sam noticed that Frodo was heading towards the front door.

'_Where could he be going this time of night?' _Sam thought to himself.

"Rosie, dear, I think I ought to go check on Mr. Frodo. He hasn't hardly been out of his room all day 'til now." Rosie nodded in understanding and kissed him.

"Go on."

Sam opened the door and saw that Frodo had not left, but was just sitting outside. There was no indication that he noticed Sam was there, and there was a far-off look in his eyes that didn't give away at all how he was feeling. Sam sat down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Mr. Frodo? What're you doin' out 'ere?"

Smiling tiredly, Frodo said, "Hullo, Sam. I just… couldn't sleep, thought I'd come out here and try to clear my head." This wasn't quite true, but he really did not want to trouble Sam with talk about the kinds of nightmares he'd been having lately. Particularly the one he just woke up from… he suppressed a shudder. They sat there in silence for a while, and Sam studied his master, wondering what he was thinking. It was hard to tell, but he probably wasn't feeling as well as he was trying to let on. Three years after the quest ended, and Frodo didn't seem to be feeling any better. In fact, it looked to Sam like he was doing worse, which greatly concerned and puzzled him. He had hoped Frodo would be able to heal once his burden was taken away, but it was not so. The quest had sucked the life out of Frodo Baggins.

Sam's heart deflated at that thought. Frodo noticed the tears brimming in his friend's eyes

"What's wrong, Sam?"

The gardener sighed, trying to think of how to best articulate his concern.

"You know, sir, I would take all your pain on myself, if I could." Frodo's eyes widened in horror, though he was touched once again by Sam's selfless attitude.

"Oh no, Sam. I would never let you do that," he said, pulling his best friend into a sideways hug. Sam didn't respond, but a small tear rolled down his cheek. "It's not all so bad, really. I have a lot to be grateful for. And you and Rosie have helped me so much. Of course, little Elanor never fails to bring a bit of joy into my day as well." The little hobbit child was always trying to get him to play with her, or sometimes drew him pictures, which he loved even if he couldn't always tell what they were. Sam gave a half-smile.

"I'm glad." It was silent for a minute. Then Sam frowned and said, "Do you ever think about how close we came to dyin' on Mount Doom? It's scary to think how easily things could have gone the other way, or if…" he trailed off, not wanting to finish that thought out loud. "I'm so grateful every day, you know, sir?"

Frodo nodded, and he had an idea of what Sam hadn't said. _If he, Frodo, had died, and Sam had lived. _He reached for the white gem Arwen had gifted him, which lay against his chest on a chain about his neck. He would never dare tell Sam this, for it would be much too hard for him to hear, but he had fully expected to die after the Ring was destroyed, and though he felt slightly guilty about it, regretted that he had not. It would have been a just punishment for claiming the Ring, and maybe he could have finally been at peace. Although as far as he knew, no one who knew of his failure seemed to blame him for the near-doom of Middle Earth, he could not banish his feelings of guilt, and his missing finger served as a constant reminder of what would have come to pass if Gollum had not been there, or if he hadn't fallen into the fire with the Ring. Frodo remembered seriously considering letting go, and wishing that Sam would let him do it. But he knew that his dear servant could never do that, and that it would be cruel to make Sam watch him die in such a horrible way. He closed his eyes for a moment. He told Sam everything wasn't all so bad, and that was true, for _there was not a hobbit in the Shire that was looked after with such care* _as he was. Love, though it could not heal his wounds, did indeed soothe them.

"Thank you, Sam, you and Rosie, for staying here with me," Frodo said sincerely.

"Of course, Mr. Frodo. It's no trouble." Sam's eyes were starting to get heavy; he felt that he could nod off any minute.

"Why don't you go on to bed? I'm sure Rosie is waiting for you."

"Alright," Sam said as he stood up, though he looked a bit hesitant.

"I'll be fine. Good night, Sam."

"Good night, sir."

Rosie was half-asleep when Sam climbed into the bed.

"How is he doing?" she asked, resting her head on his chest.

"Well, not too bad, I think. I just wish there was more I could do to help him."

Frodo settled into his own bed when he decided to try to get back to sleep. Pushing away thoughts about his nightmares from before, he counted his blessings. He was not truly alone; no, he was not.


End file.
